


It's Complicated

by dumbacapellapotatoes (Bechloetrash)



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Fluff, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Loss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2018-09-17 12:43:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9324104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bechloetrash/pseuds/dumbacapellapotatoes
Summary: When the hell did her life turn into this hot mess? Less than a year ago she stood at the top of the world, happier than she could ever remember being. A solid, stable marriage to the literal girl of her dreams, a son that was—in Beca’s totally unbiased opinion—the perfect blend of her and Chloe and a job most people would kill for.Now she was barely treading water.





	1. Bumper Cars

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by the song Bumper Cars by Alex & Sierra.

 

Amber liquid swirled at the bottom of the glass she’d been pensively staring into for the last ten minutes and as she raised the glass to her lips to drain it, the glint of the wedding band on her finger caught her eye making her scoff.

 

What a _fucking_ joke.                                                                                                                                              

 

Scotch burnt a hot trail down her throat that made her hiss as she slammed the empty glass back down on the bar.  

 

There was no need to turn to know the occupant of the stool next to hers kept shooting worried glances her way with every new glass of alcohol the bartender placed in front of them. After all, it wasn’t every day that she asked to meet at the bar conveniently located at the halfway point between both their houses on a Wednesday afternoon. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence that she pushed a full Scotch glass his way with no other explanation than a gruff order to sit, shut up and drink.

 

And not every day she knocked back glass after glass without measure refusing to talk or letting him ask any questions.

 

Jesse sighed as the bartender placed a new glass in front of her.

 

It must have been her sixth of the night. She stopped keeping count after the third.

 

“Bec-,” he started.

 

“No, no talking. Just drink,” Beca slurred.

 

“No! No more drinking. Look at you, you can barely stay upright anymore.” He forcibly removed the Scotch from Beca’s feeble grasp placing it far out of her reach. “Now fucking talk to me will you? Why the hell are we getting drunk on a Wednesday? What’s going on?”   

 

Beca sighed running a hand through her hair to push it out of her face. “My marriage is a fucking joke, Jesse. It’s not even a marriage anymore and I- I think it’s over.” The sting of tears made itself known then and she closed her eyes to stave them off.

 

“I thought things were getting better. What happened?” Jesse asked softly after a moment.  

 

“I can’t remember the last time we had an actual conversation, Jess. She just checked out again and I don’t think she’s ever going to recover from this. I can’t keep fighting on my own.”

 

“Bec it’s only been a few months-”

 

“I know how long it’s been, Jesse! Chloe’s not the only one having a hard time. She’s not the only one going through this.” Angry tears she couldn’t hold back anymore slid down her cheeks and she wiped them away quickly.

 

Jesse slid an arm around Beca’s shoulders pulling her into a solid embrace.

 

Surrounded by his comforting, familiar presence she let bitter tears fall against his shoulder with abandon.  

 

* * *

 

Waking the next morning was a slow process. She was in a bed that definitely wasn’t hers and though her vision was blurry Beca could tell it wasn’t her room she was in. Or her house for that matter.

 

She turned onto her back with a groan to stare blankly at the ceiling hoping the throbbing against her temples would lessen. No such luck.

 

She sat up against the headboard slowly and looked around the room. An aspirin bottle and a large glass of water with a sticky note attached to it sat at the bedside table next to her.

 

 _Drink up, idiot._  
_If you’re not awake before noon I’m sending Rocky in._  
_~ J._

Right. Jesse. She vaguely recalled getting shoved into the back of his car the night before after an epic—and embarrassing—cry-fest. He must have brought her back to his place afterward. She swallowed two of the pills with a big gulp of water and set about getting out of bed.

 

Hopefully without vomiting.

 

God, she hadn’t been that hung-over since college.

 

With more effort than she would ever dare to admit, Beca managed to make her way to the en-suite bathroom and splashed cold water on her face to chase away the lingering haze of sleep.  

 

She caught sight of herself in the mirror and groaned.

 

She looked like an absolute fucking mess. Her hair was sticking up in all directions, her eyeliner was smudged to hell and her eyes so swollen she could barely open them. She sighed putting her hair up in a sloppy, loose bun and stared hard at her reflection.

 

When the hell did her life turn into this hot mess? Less than a year ago she stood at the top of the world, happier than she could ever remember being. A solid, stable marriage to the literal girl of her dreams, a son that was—in Beca’s totally unbiased opinion—the perfect blend of her and Chloe and a job most people would kill for.

 

Now she was barely treading water.

 

She hadn’t felt so scared and confused since her senior year of college when her dreams of becoming a music producer seemed unattainable, her relationship with Jesse was tanking and her friendship with Chloe had never been more strained. They had never been so out of sync. Until now.

 

Until their world quite literally crumbled at their feet last year.

 

Until she suddenly couldn’t recognize her life. They were the same, but they weren’t; they lived their lives yet it felt more like they were both going through the motions. Every morning Beca rolled over in bed to be met with the woman who looked like her wife and talked like her and these days sometimes even acted like her yet… it definitely wasn’t the woman she married.

 

There was sadness etched around the corners of her eyes and weighing down her usually brilliant smile that Chloe tried so hard to hide. And it worked for the most part; but not with Beca.

 

She could see how much effort it took Chloe to perform even the simplest tasks. So much so that their relationship had taken a backseat.  

 

There were no more post-it notes on the fridge door telling her to have a good day at work or attached to her morning cup of coffee with a silly doodle and an ‘I love you’.

 

There was no more singing in the shower. No more kisses ‘just because’ or random texts in the middle of the day.  

 

Beca understood, better than most, how hard battling depression could be. Especially for someone like Chloe, who had never dealt with mental health issues before. But she couldn’t deal with Chloe’s absolute refusal to seek professional help. It was killing her to see her wife so despondent, so uninterested in life in general.

 

She didn’t know where they would be without Charlie to brighten up their otherwise gloomy days.

 

Beca shook her head to snap herself out of her reprieve, pushing morose thoughts out of her mind for the time being.

 

She rooted around the cabinets for the spare toothbrush she knew Perfectionist-Posen had to keep in there somewhere halfheartedly. The effort almost proved too much for her stomach.

 

She washed her face free of yesterday’s makeup and shoved the toothbrush that had, _of course_ , been right next to the toothbrush holder the entire time, into her mouth. Though Beca still felt like she’d been run over by a bus, she looked a little more composed.

 

She cautiously made her way into the kitchen where she could smell coffee. It made her stomach grumble in a good way.

 

Jesse greeted her from the breakfast bar with a look of barely contained concern. His eyes tracked Beca’s sluggish movements around the room as she fixed herself a cup of coffee with trembling hands. “You look like hell.”

 

“Gee thanks, buddy,” Beca said with an eye-roll. “Where’s Aubrey?”

 

Jesse’s expression hardened and he went back to reading his tablet as he answered. “With _your_ wife. She’s a mess because you didn’t come home last night.”

 

The accusatory tone didn’t go unnoticed and Beca turned from where she’d been mixing an ungodly amount of sugar into her coffee to level him with a steely glare, “you’re the one that brought me back here.”

 

“Oh, so I should’ve just dropped you off at your place, drunk out of your mind so you could traumatize your three-year-old for life? Come on, Becs.” He walked across the room to stand in front of her placing both hands on her shoulders, “I know you guys are having a rough time right now, but this self-destructing, self-sabotaging thing you’re doing isn’t helping anyone.” 

 

Beca dropped her gaze, staring at her socked feet as a wave of guilt washed over her.

 

It soon mingled with the anger she was barely keeping in check anymore. She knew—god did she ever—she was being unreasonably selfish about the whole situation but damn it she was hurting too and Chloe seemed completely unable to look past her own pain to realize if she could just stop wallowing in self-pity for two fucking seconds and look around she’d have Beca by her side in an instant to help lessen the burden.

 

Chloe seemed intent on shutting Beca’s advances out and try as she might Beca knew she was nearing the end of her rope.

 

“Sending your liver to hell isn’t going to help any of this, Beca.”

 

“She won’t talk me, Jesse. She’ll barely even look at me. I don’t know what else to do.”

 

“You _make_ her talk to you.”

 

* * *

 

Beca took the long way home after having Jesse drop her off at the bar they’d met at the night before so she could take her car. She finally bit the bullet and fished her phone out of the cup-holder on the first red light after several attempts to muster up the guts and read what she was sure were progressively panicked and angry messages.

 

_New voicemail._

_5 missed calls._

_8 new messages._

“Great,” she mumbled, letting her head fall against the headrest with a dull _thump._ She’d never gone MIA on Chloe, not since that one time after Semi Finals her freshman year. She’d texted and called and left voicemail after voicemail trying to apologize for the whole thing. Beca had been unable to see past her own stubbornness and pain to issue an apology of her own.

 

 **Chlo-bear <3 [6:40PM]: ** _coming home for dinner???_

 **Chlo-bear <3 [6:55PM]**: _little man’s been asking for you all day, please try to make it back before bedtime.._

 **Chlo-bear <3 [7:30PM]**: _Becs?_

 **Chlo-bear <3 [8:10PM]**: _I already called the studio I know you’re not working late. Call me back._

 **Chlo-bear <3 [8:38PM]**: _……_

 **Chlo-bear <3 [9:30PM]**: _CJ says he hasn’t seen you since lunch, Becs wth where are you?_

 **Chlo-bear <3 [10:02PM]**: _ok fine, you don’t wanna talk I get it. Can you at least let me know that you’re ok?_

 **Chlo-bear <3 [10:30PM]**: _Jesse called. You better be sober by the time you come home or I swear Mitchell._

The car behind Beca honked; she startled and her foot hit the gas. She dropped her phone back into the cup holder and turned up the music loud enough to drown out her thoughts for the rest of the drive.  

 

* * *

 

Aubrey’s car wasn’t in the driveway when Beca pulled up. She sighed as her shoulders slumped in relief. Still, she briefly debated turning around and going into the studio but it was time to face the music. She’d turned into one of _those_ people who would rather spend extra time at the office than go home. Really, what the hell had her life turned into?

 

She sat in the car for several minutes trying to organize her thoughts. The long drive had given Beca enough time to think about what she was going to say and do but with only a few feet separating her from Chloe, she hesitated. She tucked her thumb under her palm and wiggled the band around her ring finger letting her thoughts wander, not for the first time recently, to their wedding day and the days leading up to it.

 

They’d decided to drive back to Los Angeles from Atlanta after spending a week with Beca’s family and make a road trip out of it. Spreading the thirty-one-hour drive over three and a half days they had a lot of time and much-needed privacy to talk. About their hopes, dreams, and desires. About where they were and where they wanted to go.

 

They’d been dating for less than a year then and still, Beca knew there was nowhere else she’d rather be, no one else she’d want to spend her life with. To her elation, Chloe felt the same way.

 

Somewhere between Texas and New Mexico, after many hours of conversation and still tentative plans, Beca had made her decision.

 

She remembered looking over to her side, she was about to suggest they take a break and stop somewhere close for a late lunch when she got the air stolen right out of her lungs. The windows were rolled down, the wind was blowing that pretty, red hair around and the sun was shining down on them making Chloe look almost ethereal. Beca was sure that image would be imprinted on the back of her eyelids for the rest of her life.

 

And she remembered thinking, what the hell were they waiting for, really?

 

So she reached for Chloe’s hand over the center console and intertwined their fingers together tightly; her other hand gripped the steering wheel a little harder.

 

“Let’s get married. When we get back to LA, let’s do it,” she said.

 

“What?” Chloe laughed as she turned to look at her.

 

“Yeah. Let’s go down to the courthouse and get married. What the hell are we waiting for anyway? There’s nothing stopping us.”

 

“You’re insane,” Chloe said through a laugh laced with incredulity.   

 

“Maybe. But I’m being serious, babe. I love you and I want you to be my wife, I don’t want to wait anymore.”

 

“You’re actually thinking of doing this.”

 

“I am. What do you say, wanna get hitched?” Beca asked. Though she kept her eyes firmly on the road ahead, she could feel Chloe’s gaze intently focused on her, searching.

 

After a silent minute, Chloe squeezed Beca’s hand and brought it up to her lips for a kiss. “Let’s do it.”

 

They’d skipped the rest of their scheduled stops and made it to LA a day earlier than planned.

 

In their haste, they didn’t stop to think _maybe_ they should’ve told their friends and family. It’d been reckless and stupid and young and _simple._ Like so few things in their life were anymore. An idea Sunday afternoon, cruising down the interstate and done Wednesday morning in a southern California courthouse.

 

Beca hadn’t regretted that decision even once. She still didn’t, but somewhere along the way the vows they’d taken that day, the promises they made had lost their meaning.

 

“Are we ready to begin?” The officiant—some county judge Beca couldn’t even remember what his name was—said as she and Chloe stood in front of him, brimming with nervous excitement, hand in hand. 

 

Beca took a deep, steady breath and nodded

 

Chloe smiled and ran her thumb over Beca’s knuckles soothingly, “we’re ready,” she said.

 

“We are gathered here today, to unite these two people in matrimony. To recognize and witness their decision to journey forward in their lives as marriage partners.”

 

Beca couldn’t help rolling her eyes a little at the word ‘partners’. It had always seemed so… clinical and detached to her. They were getting married not starting a business. 

 

Chloe shook her head disapprovingly, fighting a chuckle, “behave,” she mouthed.

 

“Do you, Rebecca Mitchell, take Chloe Beale to be your partner for life?” The judge continued. “Do you take her as your lawfully wedded spouse for now and forevermore?”

 

A wave of emotion she was not expecting overwhelmed Beca then; happiness, excitement and just the right amount of nerves warred within her. It was a bit of an out of body experience, standing in a random SoCal courthouse about to tie her life to Chloe’s. And it should’ve terrified her but instead, she swallowed past the lump in her throat and said, “I do,” and a blanket of serenity washed over her, anchored her. She’d never been so sure of anything in her life.

 

“Do you, Chloe Beale, take Rebecca Mitchell to be your partner for life? Do you take her as your lawfully wedded spouse for now and forevermore?”

 

Chloe gave Beca a beaming smile and though Beca could see she was fighting back tears, her voice was sure as she answered, “I do.” 

 

“Rebecca, you may say your vows.”

 

Beca cleared her throat and shook one of her hands out of Chloe’s grip to wipe away the lone tear that made its way down her cheek before she began. “All my life I’ve been just me, just a smart-ass, wise-crack, ball of sarcasm and gloom. And then you waltzed into my life, all sunshine and smiles and music and made everything better.” Her voice faltered then and she had to take a breath to try and get her emotions under control.

 

Chloe squeezed Beca’s hands reassuringly and gave her an encouraging nod.

 

“They say love is a choice, and I always thought that was crap. But the thing is, I chose you before I ever knew there was a choice to be made and I didn’t even know it. Today, I choose you again, today I commit myself to you. To be there in the highs and lows, the easy times and the hard ones, no matter what. Always.”

 

“God, Beca,” Chloe whispered through a watery laugh. She reached up with trembling hands to wipe away the tears that streamed down her face.

 

Beca mirrored her a second later before they rejoined their hands. The swirl of emotions brewing behind Chloe’s gaze made her heart flutter even more.

 

“Chloe?”

 

“Wow, okay,” Chloe laughed again this time letting her tears fall freely. She cleared her throat and drew a slow breath, “Today, we journey into the greatest adventure we will ever have. Today we journey into the rest of our lives and I’m so happy to get to do it with my best friend by my side. Today I promise to laugh with you, cry with you, grow with you, and create with you. I promise to stand by you, support you, love you and care for you. No matter what life throws at us. Always.”

 

It seemed, she and Chloe had very differing definitions of unconditional love and support.

 

Beca took a deep breath and looked down at the phone in her lap. She opened her message thread with Jesse and stared at the last message he’d sent.

 

 **Movie Nerd [12:20PM]:** _It’s gonna be fine !!!! Good luck._

_this is the right thing to do… right?_

**Movie Nerd [1:00PM]:** _... idk Bec. it’s probably for the best._

 

Beca heaved a heavy sigh, before making her way into the house. “Show time,” she whispered as she unlocked the door.  


	2. Broken Arrows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Broken Arrows - Daughtry

 

“We have to stop doing this,” Beca mumbled against warm flesh. A distracted hum of agreement was the only response her companion offered. It vibrated against her mouth as Beca trailed her lips upward to that spot that would award her that satisfied moan… it was music to her ears. “I mean it.”

 

“I know.”

 

Teeth nipped at her earlobe and a small moan was uttered right into her ear. Once again, Beca’s resolve crumbled to the ground like a house of cards. A well-timed thrust into wet heat wiped that infuriating, victorious smirk right off her partner’s face.

 

“Fuck, Bec.”

 

_I wish I could quit you._ The thought repeated itself like a mantra in her head as she let herself get lost in the usually clear eyes of her bedmate, now darkened in lust. For a moment she couldn’t help but think about how different it all was now. It was new, exciting and oh so sensual. Yet the sight before her was still achingly familiar. Every inch of skin, every curve, scar, and freckle. Every moan and whispered, breathless plea.

 

Guilt almost managed to drag her down again, but slender fingers threaded through already mused brown locks to pull her down into a bruising, possessive kiss Beca returned with equal fervor.

 

“You’ll be the death of me, woman,” Beca spoke into a heaving chest. Swollen lips followed an oft-travelled path down a sweat-slicked abdomen aided by insistent pressure on her shoulders. Pressure that soon turned into nails digging into the skin of her shoulder blades, deliciously scratching at the skin there as she relented to her lover’s silent demands.

 

* * *

 

 

It was hours later that Beca was unceremoniously pulled back into the conscious world by her phone’s unrelenting ringing. She groaned, blindly feeling around the bedside table for the offending device; she didn’t bother looking at the screen before she mumbled a halfhearted greeting that went unanswered. She squinted against her phone’s bright glare to see the missed call notification. She groaned again, this time in frustration, and fought the urge to hurl her phone across the room.

 

“Morning, sunshine.”

 

Beca startled, searching in the semi darkness for the source. Her eyes met a pair of amused, bright blue eyes and offered a lazy smile. She let her gaze trail over shapely, bare legs dressed in what barely classified as shorts—she’d be lying if she said it didn’t kick her heart rate up a notch—and a tank top that left nothing to the imagination.

 

 “My eyes are up here, Mitchell.”

 

“You’re making this so hard for me, Beale.” Beca sighed, falling back onto the pillows to stare at the ceiling dejectedly. A moment later her wife’s—ex-wife’s?—warm weight settled next to her on the bed. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing with that little number.”

 

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

 

“Chlo.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chloe’s shoulders drop as if the weight of the world had suddenly been placed on her shoulders. In the darkness, she could just about make out the sadness etched into Chloe’s features. It was like a fist clamped around Beca’s heart and squeezed, every agonizing, stuttered beat of her heart increased the pain tenfold.

 

“Is it really so bad that I don't want you to leave?” Chloe whispered, so low it was like she hoped Beca wouldn't hear her.

 

“I don't want to leave, Chloe.”

 

“Then don't.”

 

“I can't Chlo. I said I needed time and space, just because we’re screwing each other’s brains out like we’re in college again doesn't mean that's changed.”

 

Chloe flinched, whether from Beca’s harsh tone or her refusal to stay she couldn't tell. Probably both.

 

Tense silence stretched over them as Beca stumbled around the room gathering her haphazardly discarded clothing. “I think… Maybe we shouldn't do this anymore.”

 

Chloe offered little more than an almost imperceptible nod in response.

 

The fact that Chloe wasn’t even fighting her on this only served to solidify Beca’s resolve even further. Clearly, there was nothing left there for them to salvage and break-up sex, as good as it was, was only delaying the inevitable. The inevitable heartbreak, the inevitable despair, and eventual anger.

 

Months ago Beca would’ve let the anger simmering underneath the surface flourish and blossom but today it was nothing but a feeble spark.

 

She’d hoped breaking things off—again—would incite some sort of reaction from Chloe. An argument at the very least. Anger perhaps, an attempt to put up a fight, anything that told Beca Chloe still cared. That she should still try to get their relationship back.

 

But Chloe seemed unable—or unwilling—to put up any kind of fight for them. And Beca was just so damn tired of swimming against the current and fighting this war on her own.

 

Looking around the room at the remnants of her once happy life, a family picture Aubrey had snapped of the three of them a few months ago at a park, an old group photo a hotel clerk had taken of all the Bellas after Worlds, the few belongings she still had scattered around the room, all the decorations she and Chloe had spent hours picking out when they’d moved in five years ago, Beca felt whatever part of her was still holding on to them, to what they used to be, finally let go.

 

She finally understood there was nothing left for her to hold on to.

 

A somber mood settled over the room and Beca sighed, looking around the space one last time. Her gaze settled, finally, on Chloe.

 

Eight years of bliss and happiness stretched between them; eight birthdays and anniversaries, Christmases and Thanksgivings, Sunday mornings spent in bed and shower duets. They’d built a life in that time, even brought another human being into existence and it all ended here. In the middle of a dark and messy bedroom that had bared witness to so much.

 

She hesitated only for a heartbeat before crossing the room and pulling Chloe into a tight hug before she could think about it twice.

 

It was like getting ripped apart and stitched back together simultaneously.

 

Strong arms wrapped around her middle and for one blissful, seemingly eternal moment everything felt right. Being in Chloe’s arms always felt like coming home after a long trip, warm and welcoming and  _safe._ And damn it she was supposed to be letting go not holding on tighter.

 

Tears clouded Beca’s vision as she was surrounded by the familiar scent of Chloe’s shampoo and body wash and just the barest hint of what Beca could only describe as _Chloe._  “I love you and I'm sorry,” she said, the words muffled against Chloe’s shoulder. _I wish I was strong enough to stay._

 

“I know. I love you too, Bec.”

 

Blinking back the tears that threatened to spill, Beca pulled back just far enough to seal their lips in what she desperately hoped wasn't their last kiss.

 

Chloe must've had the same thought. She tightened her hold around Beca’s waist pulling her closer; one of her hands tangled in brown tresses, deepening their kiss.

 

Soon they were both breathless and fighting for control.

 

Through the haze of lust and want that was quickly taking over, the last remnants of Beca’s self-control won out and she broke apart, putting a few steps of distance between them.

 

She found herself unable to meet Chloe’s eye. “I'm gonna, um, go say goodnight to the little man. I'll- I'll see you Saturday I guess.”

 

* * *

 

 

“You get one more song and then its time to go to sleep, little man.”

 

“Okay,” the little boy snuggled into her chest sighed, ever the dramatic.

 

Beca dropped an absent kiss atop tousled, brown curls fighting a smile and settled more comfortably in the rocking chair. He was getting far too big for this sort of thing but Beca would indulge him for as long as he'd let her.

 

After a quick rendition of Bob Dylan’s _Forever Young_ Charlie’s slight body went slack in Beca’s arms, breathing steady puffs into her neck. She ran her fingers through his messy hair soothingly for a few more minutes until she was sure he was sound asleep.

 

He stirred as she transferred him onto his bed and tucked him in but relaxed against the pillows with a heavy exhale a second later.

 

“I love you, little man,”

 

She could feel Chloe’s presence hovering in the doorway, clearly trying not to disrupt Charlie’s sleep.

 

As much as he took after Chloe in his personality, he'd inherited Beca’s less than healthy sleeping habits and thus falling—and staying—asleep was a battle for their son most days.

 

“You know, its creepier when you just stand there staring.” She could practically hear Chloe’s eye roll.

 

“I can't believe he's already asleep,” Chloe said.

 

Her voice sounded a lot closer than Beca had been expecting.

 

“Yeah. We had a long weekend.”

 

Chloe fuzzed with the boy’s pillow and blanket again tucking his favorite, stuffed duck under his arm a little more securely before dropping a soft kiss on his exposed cheek. “I love you baby, goodnight.”

 

“Can you believe he's three already?” Chloe asked, that look of utter adoration that was solely reserved for their son sweeping across her features.

 

“Insane. Where the hell did the years go?”

 

“Who knows.”

 

“We did good.”

 

“We did.”

 


	3. Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. It's been more than a year. Sorry? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
>  
> 
> Where's My Love - SYML

“Happy Birthday, Charlie!”

 

The amassed partygoers shouted, as newly three-year-old Charlie Beale-Mitchell stood at the center of attention. His moms stood proudly beaming at his sides, ready to help him blow out the candles on the birthday cake.

 

The shutter of cameras and flashes overwhelmed Beca’s field of vision for a few seconds as everyone captured the moment. “Happy Birthday, Bubba,” she whispered into her son’s ear as she leaned over to place a wet, sloppy kiss on his cheek to make him giggle and squirm away from her.

 

“We love you, baby,” Chloe said from his other side as she lifted him onto her hip and peppered his face with kisses.

 

The sound of their laughter and the sight of them together made something in Beca’s chest tighten and, just for a second, she couldn’t breathe.

 

God this day was not getting any easier.

 

Beca realized now she had been maybe just a little overconfident in her and Chloe’s ability to spend all day together and interacting and being nice to each other without someone getting hurt.

 

Someone most likely being her.

 

“You're staring again.” A voiced singsonged over her shoulder startling Beca out of her thoughts.  

 

With a glare, she met Stacie’s amused gaze. “I’m not staring.”

 

“You are. You've been staring all day with sad puppy eyes.”

 

“That's not a thing.”  

 

She'd retreated to a secluded corner of the backyard after the cake cutting, hoping to get a break from the chaos that came with fifteen over-excited, sugared up three and four-year-olds. But with four pairs of extra vigilant eyes on her all day her chances were slim.

 

“Sure, cap. Whatever you say.”

 

“Did you need something?” Beca huffed.

 

“Grouchy much?”

 

Beca sighed. Over the years she’d grown unaccustomed to Stacie's impressive ability to push past Beca’s very clear “fuck off” vibe and remain unaffected by her surly attitude. She'd take every one of Beca’s exasperated comments and come back with a joke. Truthfully it was one of the things she loved most about her friendship with Stacie.  

 

“Relax, Beca,” Stacie relented when Beca’s scowl just deepened. “I just wanna catch up. See how you're doing.”

 

“I'm fine, Stace. Really.” Evade, evade, evade.

 

Her longtime friend cocked an eyebrow in challenge. Green eyes stared back, impassive, unnerving.  

 

She looked away from her friend’s knowing gaze, all the annoyance she’d managed to muster up in the last few minutes draining from her frame. “I… miss her,” Beca finally admitted with a long sigh. “This fucking sucks, dude. All we do is keep hurting each other.”

 

“Have you guys talked to a therapist? You went through so much this year, counseling could only help.” Stacie said softly.

 

“I tried. She shot me down every time.”

 

“Keep trying, Bec. She still loves you.”

 

“I know,” Beca chuckled, “it was never about that.”

 

Stacie pulled her into a quick side hug then, both settling into comfortable silence.

 

Beca tracked the party’s proceedings with a soft smile as Jesse chased Charlie a few feet away from them with … a balloon sword?

 

The boy shrieked as Jesse closed in on him and as he caught sight of Beca ran straight for her and right into her knees.

 

“Oof. Careful, Bud.”

 

“Mama!” The boy shouted.  

 

Charlie latched onto her leg, tiny arms hugging Beca close. Clear blue eyes—Chloe's eyes—peered up at Beca through a frame of messy curls, wide and youthful.

 

“Come here, you rascal,” Beca hauled the boy onto her hip, fixing the balloon hat that sat precariously atop Charlie’s curls.

 

“Uncle Jesse a pirate,” Charlie said in what was probably his best attempt at a whisper.

 

“Is he now?” A smile curled on Beca’s lips as she peered at Jesse over her son’s shoulder curiously.

 

She didn't remember a clown being a part of the plan. The last time they took Charlie anywhere near a clown he'd cried and clung to Chloe’s blouse so hard they were sure he was gonna rip right through it.

 

“What's with the pirate getup, nerds?” She asked.

 

“Fat Amy’s making balloon animals and hats and all sorts of things,” Jesse said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder, “over there.”  

 

“Ha. No way, I have to see this,” Stacie said, heading in the general direction Jesse had pointed.

 

Beca trailed a few paces behind her, curious to see this latest Amy-Spectacle.

 

There was a small crowd of children gathered in the center of the yard, Fat Amy in the middle of it all.    

 

There was no clown makeup or oversized, red shoes like Beca was halfway expecting but she was donning one of those round, red, foam noses. A box with a seemingly never-ending supply of tying balloons sat at her feet.

 

The most interesting thing, however, wasn't Amy’s impressive ability to produce a vast array of balloon animals (and apparently pirate gear) but rather, Amy’s companion.

 

In the midst of the seemingly controlled chaos, Aubrey had been roped into being Amy's rather unwilling assistant.

 

She seemed to be having a hard time with the balloons. In the few minutes Beca had been watching, Aubrey had already managed to pop four of them as she attempted to follow Amy’s instructions. She could tell Aubrey was growing frustrated. Finally, there was something little miss perfectionist Aubrey Posen, who considered herself a jack of all trades and master of every one of them, couldn't master.

 

Beca smiled as she fished for her phone in her pocket. Aubrey would probably kill her, but she couldn't wait to send this to all the Bellas.

 

* * *

 

“Beca, wait!”

 

Beca stopped and turned, heart skipping a beat when Chloe approached her. She took a deep breath and hoped the shaking in her hands wasn’t as noticeable as she thought it was. “Oh, hey, Chloe. What’s up?” She tried for nonchalant but knew the tremor in her voice gave her away.

 

“Are you… taking off? Already?” Chloe asked hesitantly.

 

“No, no. I— My phone, it like, died. I’m just— my charger’s in the car,” Beca stuttered. She mentally kicked herself for letting her nerves betray her. She had nothing to be nervous about, she kept telling herself.

 

This was the first time in nearly a week she and Chloe had been alone in the same room. Okay, maybe she had something to be nervous about.

 

“Oh, okay. Listen I was hoping we could talk.”

 

Beca hoped she wasn’t mistaken but she thought there was a hint of relief seeping into Chloe’s voice. She took another deep breath and shoved her hands into her pant pockets, just for good measure.

 

“Right not, right now?” She looked at their sparse surroundings slowly and leaned against the hood of her car. The summer sun beat against her back, chasing away the sudden chill that clung to her body.

 

Chloe cleared her throat and not-so-subtly avoided Beca’s gaze as she answered. “No. Maybe later? After everyone’s gone. It’s important.”

 

Beca’s heart dropped at the thought. She’d been dismayed to realize throughout the day that something seemed different about Chloe. She seemed lighter, calmer than Beca has seen her in months and though she was overjoyed to see it, she had a sinking suspicion it had to do with their recent separation.

 

She cleared her throat and blinked against the sudden onslaught of tears. “Yeah, sure.” Her voice sounded a lot stronger than she felt in that moment. “I’ll meet you inside,” she walked away before Chloe had a chance to respond and popped the trunk of her car, hopefully shielding herself from view.

 

She rooted around the disorderly space for her messenger bag surprised to realize there were tears now streaming down her face. There was little doubt in her mind what Chloe wanted to talk about. Beca knew separating had been her idea initially, but she honestly believed it was the right decision at the time. They needed time to heal as individuals, to regroup after the last year so they’d be able to come back together ready to fix the damages they’d caused to their marriage. Their family.  

 

She never thought it would lead to this. She didn’t think it would lead to Chloe flat out asking for a divorce.

 

The thought alone sent Beca into a tailspin, panic rising in her chest like a  violent tidal wave, knocking the breath out of her lungs. She stumbled forward, clumsily climbing into her car, hands shaking as she tried to lock herself inside. As soon as she had the door closed, the sobs ripped free and try as she might she couldn’t get a hold of this new wave of grief that seized her heart.

 

The tinted windows offered plenty of privacy and she allowed herself to break then. In the solitude of the moment and with nothing but her deepest, darkest fears coming to light Beca let the pain overtake any and every rational thought in her mind. Slumped against the steering wheel she let the tears flow freely.

 

She took several deep, calming breaths after a few minutes and came to a new resolution.  She was Beca _Effin_ Mitchell. She would march through that door, shoulders squared and head held high and tell Chloe under no circumstances was Beca letting her walk away from their family.  

 

* * *

 

By the time the last of the guest had gone and the yard was back to looking more or less the same Beca’s resolve was starting to crumble. She could tell Chloe was nervous and it only served to ramp up Beca’s anxiety.

 

She finally gave in to her curiosity after they’d tucked Charlie in for the night.

 

“So…”

 

“So…” they both spoke at the same time and it served to break the tension in the room.

 

“You’re nervous,” Beca said spying a sideways glance at Chloe on the oversized couch they sat at.

 

“A little, yeah. I’m sorry I freaked you out earlier.”

 

“Listen, Chloe before you say anything, “ she started. “I just, I need to say this. I know splitting up was my idea and, and, and I’m not backing down now, I still think we need time, we need to figure ourselves out before we can give our marriage a real chance, but I’m not ready to let you go, Chlo.”

 

“Wait, hold on, Beca-”

 

“No, I just. I’m not ready to stop fighting and I can’t, I can’t let you give up on us. Not after everything, not after we l-”

 

“Stop, stop, stop!” Chloe cut through Beca’s panicked speech taking her gesturing hands into her own to still them. “That’s, that’s not what this is about. Jesus, stop talking for a second.”

 

“It’s not?” Beca asked hope blossoming in her chest. “You’re not gonna, like, serve me divorce papers or something?”

 

“On our son’s birthday? Bec, no.”

 

“Then what the hell’s going on? What are you all nervous about?”

 

“I just need to tell you something,” Chloe said.  

 

“You already said that,” Beca stood, pacing around the living room now. She needed to work off all this nervous energy.

 

“I know. I need you to promise me you’re not going to freak out and that you’re going to let me talk before before you start jumping to a million conclusions again.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Okay. So I had a doctor’s appointment, on Thursday-”

 

“What? Why? Is everything okay?” Beca interrupted. The look Chloe gave her stopped her anxious questions. “Sorry, sorry. Keep going.”

 

“Everything’s fine,” she huffed impatiently. “Will you sit down, you’re making me even more nervous.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry,” she dropped onto the cushions next to the redhead when she spotted tears brimming in baby blue eyes. She couldn’t help herself and scooted closer grasping Chloe’s face to gently wipe away the lone tear that escaped. “Woah, Chloe what’s wrong?” she asked softly.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying. Nothing’s _wrong.”_

 

“Then what’s up? It’s okay, it’s all gonna be okay.” She watched Chloe take a deep breath like she was preparing herself as her eyes slipped closed.

 

Dread pooled in Beca’s stomach and she braced herself, she could feel her heart pounding away in her chest, drowning out everything else.

 

“I’m pregnant.”

  



End file.
